An Update of an Ever Unreliable Diary about Stuff

MMMMmmmm Hello yes I know it’s 2020, how did that happen. Well as you know our cat Sooty had a terrible accident and that was the last post. Since then many things have happened. From Boris Johnson becoming the new British Prime Minister and then winning an election. From a personal point of view I think this will not be good, but who am I to know; I’m just a chap keeping a low profile in a world that us humans are and have made slightly worse than it was before we arrived. Although that is entirely subjective depending on your view point. Dodos however think humans are terrible things, or they did before we ate them all.

Right back to the point we have also gained a new cat something we said we were not planning to do. What we decided was we would not look for a cat, but if a cat found us we would look after it. And sure enough as a direct result of our favourite vet we ended up with another black cat which we have now called Snowy. We were told it was about 5 but we suspect it may be nearer 10. It is certainly very quiet and chilled and does like a good sleep and is often in bed till about ten thirty in the morning.

We have had a couple of trips to hospital and the Ghost Writers wife is due to have a new all singing and dancing hip in a few weeks.

There is a tiny leak in the workshop and also the summerhouse, the result of a rather wet winter, but these can’t be fixed until the rain stops. I have a feeling that it will not be long until something rather profound happens on the planet that will have folk saying . . . . . . . WHAT . . . . How did that happen . . . .

I don’t know what this will be or when but I do think it will be sooner rather than later. However as I have already said I am just a chap and know nothing.

Right that’s it I’m off now. Not sure when I will return, but if something profound happens I’ll be here saying    . . . . I told you so and being all snug while fending off an Alien, Zombie or squid with a pointy stick.

The terrible curse of the selfie

Yesterday or maybe it was the day before I did something terrible, I took a selfie. One of those things that folk do so much that some cunningly clever chap invented a stick so you could take selfies from slightly further away. Now you might be thinking WHY (no not the stick but me taking one of me) and I don’t blame you, but there is a reason. You see what with drawing more pictures and then admittedly tweaking them a bit with some rather basic and very old software, plus writing a bit of dodgy poetry I thought I need a suitable image.  Until recently I have avoided using images of myself as much as possible in cyberspace, but if I plan to be some sort of mad dishevelled cult artist poet, then image is important. So I dug out my Tesco prescription sunglasses pointed my little digital camera at myself and attempted to smile then pressed the button and hey-presto . . . .terrible. Yes no matter how much I try to look slightly cool and moderately chirpy I always end up looking dead grumpy, OK I am grumpy most of the time but not all of it.

Now one of the key things that has brought this to the fore is that my old pal Mr Charlie said I needed a manager so that rather than just drawing stuff and sticking it into the voids of cyberspace to be lost forever, My manager could manage me. Actually I am probably not an ideal candidate for a manager because I am grumpy and a bit maverick (as has been proved by photographic evidence).  So I said to Charlie OK then Charlie you can manage me, and then he went off and told folk I was drawing again and that he was going to organise me and attempt to get me to create enough work for an exhibition. HAHAHAHha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haha haha ha hahah a ha ha I thought; I am far to maverick to be organised into something that organised these days, surely such a thing is impossible. I suspect I am right but in order to help my new manager I have promised to create some hanging on the wall art so it can be hung on a wall and folk can look and say. . . . . . . . O my god that’s terrible, that is the worst art I have ever seen. . . .

I did say too Mr Charlie in a slightly enthusiastic way. . . I could add some of my poetry to the artwork. . . . But he looked panicked and said he thought that was a bad idea . . . that means I almost certainly will.

Now I don’t know if this will happen and if it does when, but if it does I will let you all know. What I will say is it will not be in a leading London gallery, for one thing London scares me to bits, it is full of folk running about and huge as in really huge.

In the meantime here is my selfie. . . . . . . . . . .

     

Wizards, Ravens and Old Age

I was planning to write something witty and clever tonight, maybe a cunning tale of a wizard who having got trapped by the general day to day life in the world of wizards decides he will go off and pursue the fabled Ravens of Infinity. Interestingly one of the big issues about being a wizard in the world of wizards is you are just another wizard, but that is not exactly the point, the point was it was my plan to write about him (the wizard). Well it was either write about a wizard or it was to write yet another poem that would leave everyone stunned thinking . . . .Well that was a bit of a shock. . . .  However as you can probably tell by now neither of these things has happened and you might be wondering why. . . . OK I plan to tell you anyway.

You see just at present various important parts of my body are not entirely working as they should be, this is very annoying indeed. I mean I appear to have a doggy liver, dodgy eyes and a dodgy brain which is probably not helped by having dodgy eyes. Having a dodgy liver is rather annoying as someone who never drinks and never really has, but apparently as we get older stuff packs up. Which seems a bit unfair exactly what was Gods idea in doing that then, just as you get the hang of life bits of you start to fall off.

So rather than some brilliant post about something brilliant today's post is in fact me having a bit of a grumble. I did have a kipper for lunch which was rather yummy although I suspect the kipper (herring) might argue that it is alright for me to complain but someone ate him/her and that is just not nice. To tell the truth I don’t entirely disagree with the herring, but life fundamentally eats life and it’s no good saying you are a vegetarian or vegan because plants are a life form just like me. Even the humble salted peanut given a bit of a chance would have preferred to grow into a small planty bush sort of thing.  Mind you plants have one advantage over me as a human they can lose the odd branch or two and will not complain about it a lot. Even insects have the ability to replace various parts with time.  Unfortunately all my dodgy bits are not easily replaced even though there are those that insist my brain has been rubbish for years and I probably would work better without it.

Don’t worry though because I have a pointy stick and I plan to wave it at God for at least the next twenty five years or so demanding that he sorts out the laws of nature logically so that all those nature programs on the tele where a cute thing (me) is eaten by a thing that is not cute (not me) become a thing of the past.

Now all I need to do is come up with a clever poem for tomorrow. . . . . no rest for the wicked or folk with dodgy parts. . . Actually I really need to get new glasses at present too because it is getting to the point I cant read what I am writing or drawing so can only do this is short spells.  I mean my typing was bad when I could see what I was typing so this is a wing and prayer stuff at present.

One Shade of Grey and a House Sign

Today saw the arrival of two things one of which is exciting and the other not exciting, both are heavier than one might expect and both involve the colour grey . Not that grey is an exciting colour or even a colour in the way that folk tend to think of colour, in fact I not sure if it even counts in scientific terms as colour or not. Although to be fair none of this actually matters anyway so I will get back to the point.

The first thing arrived with a courier in a white van who was friendly and chirpy and gave me a great huge heavy Catalogue from a well known store. Well we looked at it and said O MY GOD that’s heavy and big and why us, why have they sent us this big huge catalogue that no one wanted. So we looked through it as you do, as us humans are as curious as cats and just need to have a little look inside to see if it has an exciting treat within.  In this case it did not, firstly 90% of it was women’s clothing designed for 20 year old anorexics; why do they always do that, surely in this day and age fashion stores should have learnt that folk are generally normal sized. And I am not convinced that filling this catalogues with 20 year olds is actually aiming at their target market. To make matters worse it appears the hip colour for this Autumn is a sort of grey hint of greyness with some added grey.

Well I guess you can tell this was not the exciting thing of the two things that arrived. No that was our new house sign which has been made by the Son in Law of the Ghost Writer who is as grumpy as ever but has his uses at times( that’s the Ghost Writer by the way). Made, based on my drawing but tweaked a bit to deal with the fact my design got a bit carried away. He said A fully operation steam powered house sigh with light up letters and a steam organ that played The ace of spades was slightly more than he was prepared to make. But it looks very cool and it is now my job to paint it and get it attached to the post at the end of the drive.  Replacing the present one which no one can see easily and which is, to put it bluntly not so good these days, but it has probably been there for thirty years at least. Actually no one can read it any longer so unless folk know where we live they can’t find us. . . . mmmmmmm I think that sort of might be true for everyone, but I hope you might know what I mean.

And we have just had Bangers and Mash for tea. . . Well Cool. 

How (NOT) to respond in important meetings

I spent today at an important meeting, well sort of important, I will admit right now that unless I have some paper to hand to make notes on I am not good at important meetings. Unfortunately I did not have any paper today to make notes on, so all was not well and I got a bit distracted and started to join in the meeting. Sadly the acoustics were extremely bad and much of the time folk could not hear what people were saying so some of the meeting was confused. Apparently my Indian war chant did not help matters or pointing out that the battered chicken things on the lunch buffet looked just like deep fried rat. 

Then the man next to me started complaining about the fact he could not hear the speaker so I said . . .  HALF PAST SEVEN BUT I THINK IT STOPS IN BIRMINGHAM AND YOU WILL NEED TO TAKE A CLEAN TEA BAG. . . .  He did not speak to me after that and thought I was a mad man. I did explain I did not have a piece of paper to take notes, but by then the meeting was well into the afternoon so even if I did get some, time was against me. 

To tell the truth I don’t actually take real notes at these meetings I draw Zombies and the like and pretend to take notes. Generally I find no one is that interested in what I am drawing and assume I need to take notes, and I do look up at key moments and nod and look at folk in a knowing way saying. . . . I QUITE AGREE . . . . WELL SAID. . . and then carry on drawing. But not being able to do this means the little devil sat on my shoulder whispers stuff like . . . GO ON SING SOME RED INDIAN SONGS. . . . I am rather good at Red Indian; I think I may have been one in a previous life which would also explain why I like pointy sticks and one of my favourite saying to say (not Write) is . . . WHITE MAN SPEAK WITH FORKED TONGUE . . .  No I really love that saying because it is so often true.

Once it was all over I managed to assist in slightly breaking part of the display, I was not the main person involved I merely pointed out that if they took it apart in a certain way in might not work, and I was right it didn’t.

I think the next important meeting is in December so I will make sure I go with paper next time rather than assume it will be supplied.

OOOOo I found a dead moth tonight on the patio, I hope his mates don’t think it was my fault that might be a problem. It is getting dark very early these days, I think summer might have vanished for the year with plans to stay in warmer parts of the world for a while. . . DAMN

A Very Strange Blog Guest Interview

Hello Rob

O NO what do you want

I have come to help with this blog post

What blog post I’m not writing a blog post

I think you will find that you are now

DAMN

Look we can do one of those guest interviews that folk like to do

OK but keep it sensible

What, really don’t you trust me I mean I will just ask a few simple questions so the readers get to know all about you . . . . . sort of, a bit.

OK

Well Rob All this writing you do here what is all that about, I mean you do realise its all futile and that no one is remotely interested in any of it don’t you.

Hang On that’s a bit of an aggressive start for an interview

Well I thought I would do a political one, folk like politics

Are you sure. I thought they preferred cute cats on YouTube.

Now dont change the subject Mr Tobor you need to answer the question YES or NO.

WHAT?

No not what that tells us nothing we need to know exactly where you stand.

I stand on the floor although at present I am sitting at a desk typing.

I think we can all see that. . . You once  operated a machine called a UFO didn't you. You were called a UFO Pilot.

Yes

Exactly an Unidentified Flying Object. . . You are in fact an Alien aren’t you

No I’m not and UFO stands for Underwater Flying Observer it was one of those ROV’s (remotely operated vehicles) it was a submarine and I didn’t go in it I just operated it from the surface.

And you were a tea blender at one time

Yes but it was a terrible job, No one wants to be a tea blender in Dante’s Inferno, so I ran away and hid.

And you stopped a runaway truck once didn’t you.

Yes

I was an ace skateboarder when no one else was interested and I was sort of passed by a truck with no driver so I leapt into it all heroically and stopped it

And what happened

I got lots of angry looks from passing pedestrians who thought I was the driver so I ran away and hid

You have been run over by cars once or twice too, surely after the first time you would take more care.

Yes but sometimes it is not easy to leap out of the way particularly when various bits are slightly faulty and you go round in small circles when moving too quickly. A result of folk attacking you with a car.

The punters are bored now so time to go.

OK yes thanks for your help. . . . . I think

And you are looking a bit off colour Rob.                

Alien Spiders from Mars . . . (The Ziggystardium)

It has been some time since we have seen Mr Jones the alien hunter so it was a surprise to see him peering into the Ghost Writers car about lunch time. It appears that unknown to the Ghost Writer his car has become an incubator for a particular race of spider like aliens from Mars which Mr Jones says are called the Ziggystardium. The ghost writer himself is not too bothered and says they can stay there for now, but Mr Jones went OOOOooooooooooooooooo.

According to Mr Jones they will quickly grow into huge things and are not friendly and will probably suck the brains out of the Ghost Writers head, something aliens have a habit of doing quite a lot.  The Ghost Writer says that his brains were sucked out years ago so YA SUCKS BOO, but Mr Jones says that he will regret saying that when he is trapped in a traffic jam on the M6 with his head covered in aliens and a policeman knocking on his side window. 

Rev Oscar Overlap Oppenheimer . . . . The A to Z of Slightly Strange Unknown Victorian Inventors and Explorers

Rev Oscar Overlap Oppenheimer

An old fashioned fire and brimstone vicar the Rev Oscar Overlap Oppenheimer certainly knew how to keep the masses on the straight and narrow and no hanky-panky was going to be going on in his parish. But he also was a man of science and said that it was his duty to understand the finer detail of Gods greater plan. His own particular area of knowledge being optics, and he had a huge collection of prisms lenses and mirrors and was a fastidious recorder of data from his many experiments with light.  It was during one of his experiments that he realized that there was no defined scale for the levels of light and shade so the Rev Oppenheimer invented the Oppenheimer Christian Grey Scale.  It was known as the Christian Grey Scale of Shade as the Rev Oscar Overlap Oppenheimer wanted to ensure that his work was associated with the hand of God. Not some sort of deviant sort of scientific invention such as the Barometric Bellows which he condemned in his sermons on many an occasion.   

He carefully analyzed the many levels of light and shade for his scale and eventually settled at fifty grades of shade all with specific intensities and all given a simple common name and description as well as a scientific code reference. So for the simple layman . . . . WOW that’s black I can’t see the cat. . . . meant it was very dark, and . . . . . WOW that’s bright I can’t see the cat . . .  meant is was bright seriously bright.

The Oppenheimer Christian Grey Scale has fallen out of use these days and no one mentions the fifty grades of shade any more but it is said that the Ghost of the Rev Oscar Overlap Oppenheimer has started to appear in bookshops in the last couple of years at night and is not happy.  

The Ghost Writer, an Office, an Update and a Golden Ibis

Now my last post was all about stuff changing and how it sort of happens jolly damn quickly at times and then sometimes so slowly that we cant deal with it in human terms as change. Well yesterday I found myself for reasons some of you will have worked out, at the office of the Ghost Writer. Who although a terrible Ghost Writer, is known to many as the IT Guru to the Stars as well as folk of a non star status. Well lets face it stars are not what they were when Humphrey Bogart, Jane Russell. James Cagney or Gary Cooper and the like were stars, these days they are folk I have never heard of and often look like spoil teenage brats.

Anyway there I was in the office of the Ghost Writer when a message arrived to say that a small flock of Zombies were attacking a shed in my garden. . . . . . No hang on that is not the message I was planning to discuss. . . . . No a message arrived in the office to say that the national organisation were doing important updates and that it might impact to some degree on the internet of the offices across the United Kingdom. Well as the Ghost Writer himself said at the time what this means is that no one will be able to do any work what so ever, and he was right.  And as the office suddenly came to a grinding halt it showed the very weakness of the modern internet based working environment. 

You see at one time a wizened old monk would be there with his quill and vellum working on his illuminated manuscript and except for the Vikings would work away through thick and thin, power cuts and even no internet. Even till very recently an office full of typists could produce loads of stuff a day, far more than they do now using the internet, but of course distribution was a bit of an issue, but at least folk did not spend half their day emailing pictures of cats to each other or shopping.

So there you have it a high tech (OK not very high) office is all well and good but takeaway the internet and almost instantaneously it is paralysed and folk can not do a thing. It is now very trendy to work in the so called Cloud, but just wait until the next major solar flare or some evil organization takes over and the internet is zapped, what will folk do then. It will not fair well for my blog either although luckily I have a wizened old monk writing it all on vellum with a quill from a Golden Ibis so . . . . . . . . . . . . HAH AHHAH haha ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ahha ha haha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha . . . . my place in history is assured.  

The as yet unknown Insect People of Saturn . . . . . Keep Watching the SKIES (sorry EYES)

The Ghost Writer has been in his grey office today pondering the strange world of IT, now before you all say hang on that got nothing to do with unknown things, that is not entirely true. You see he is going ga ga (as in loony, not the singer . . . .as I have said before) and so quite frankly has not got a clue what he is doing, so he spends most of his life in a state of unknown.  He is much happier like that, sometimes it is best not to know.

You are all no doubt all aware that in the last couple of days I have had close encounters with Vampire Moths and tonight I almost came  face to face with a large pale coloured spider. I say almost because it ran off and hid when I sneaked in to grab the camera. I have learnt I need to photograph everything or folk say things like O yes how big did you SAY; it stood four feet high and snarled at you……. Well if I wave a photo at them they go O MY GOD ITS HUGE KILL IT……. However the spider ran off so no picture only an artist’s impression . . . . . OK I may have got carried away a bit, but I have a theory.

Well all this insect activity made me think HANG ON maybe all these insects are just acting like pre-invasion scouts testing the lay of the land working out if us humans taste good before they (the Insect People of Saturn) attack us.  This now appears very likely to me because the small scouts (almost certainly nano robots) insects will be telling the main battle fleet in space that our main defences consist of nasty smelling aerosol sprays that are as good as useless, sticky strips of paper that catch the odd fly and scented candles which appear to choke the humans and for some reason even most humans can't understand clear plastic bags full of water hanging outside windows.  Yes it appears the insects may not only think we are weak and feeble but with rather tasty blood but also mad.

I have no plans to hang plastic bags full of water outside my windows. . . . No one is going to call me mad. Although it will make an interesting backdrop in the popular Steven Spielberg movie The Invaders from Saturn . . . . Based on a popular blog by Rob Z Tobor.

The all seeing eye of Mr Google. . . . . .

It has been a busy sort of day in cyberspace and means my diary not been written today. WHY I hear some of you say, although many others will be aware as I do pop up all over the place in cyberspace at times. Well as you will notice from the picture today has been my birthday, in fact it is also the birthday of the Ghost Writer and his is bitter and twisted because he has to watch Google telling me it is my birthday also. But is this good, I am not entirely sure I like the fact Google tells me its my birthday or that the cat wants more food or that the Zombies have been active in the woods today (they have as it happens. . . very noisy).

I have received many useful presents and I will discuss all this more another time as it is getting late and very soon it will no longer be my birthday, so sadly it is time to go again. I'm sure it is not meant to rain on one's birthday but this is Britain and the law of averages would suggest that in most cases it will rain on your birthday 99%.of the time . . . just as well we only have the one birthday a year (unless you are the queen then you get two). . .  

Oooooo yes Happy Birthday Ghost Writer  

Diaries and other words

So about this so called diary that you have not been writing lately, I can hear you all think. What sort of feeble excuse are you planning to palm us all off with this time with your rubbish pictures and so called paradoxes.  Which looking from our point of view just looked like an excuse not to write anything?

Well I can tell you are not happy since I have stopped writing reams of total rubbish that makes little sense I have noticed that the page views on the blog have plummeted like the Great Mechanical Zombie Bird itself. There I was boasting to the cats that the blog was just a tad fewer than 10,000 pageviews for the month of July and at the present rate it will be back down to a couple of thousand at best in August.  Of course I did mention my concern about the fact I would no longer be covering major world sporting events as my Football  World Cup coverage was very popular (particularly with folk who don't like sport).

Anyway back to the point excuses, I have been busy and I think I have reached that point where I am suffering from writer's block again. I have a feeling this is because I have written loads, 560,000 words not including comments and drawn loads of pictures. In fact last nights picture drawn last night was a right old game and I was far from happy with the result so I am worried I have Artists block now as well. Even the poetry was a bit iffy and bad nonsense poetry is normally dead easy.

So I need a plan something to revamp things in a good way but not an exhausting gosh this is hard work sort of way, something that will make people think Oooooo this is an interesting diary this chap should get that very nice Steven Spielberg to turn this into a film.  Luckily I do think I have a plan one that I hope people will approve of, one which will keep the basic structure of my diary intact so I don’t lose my loyal followers (you know who you are).

So what is this plan I hear you now thinking in a slightly excited way. . . . . . .Well I thought I might introduce more Zombies, Aliens,  Mechanical things, Goats, ferrets, Lemmings, Pointy Sticks and ice cream and do some drawings………

WHAT DID YOU SAY

What you are fed up with    Zombies, Aliens, Mechanical things, Goats, ferrets, Lemmings, Pointy Sticks and ice cream and rubbish drawings done with a ballpoint pen. . . . . . . . .

AH DAMN. . . .

What about a nude alien hunter and a Grumpy Ghost Writer.

O God you lot are hard to please, OK I will add some science and stuff from time to time if you insist and maybe some real news. . . . . . But that’s it. 

A Perplexing Anomaly about Sport, Aliens and Popularity

I am not a person who has a huge amount of interest in sport, something that may (or may not) be clear from my coverage of the Football World Cup and if you delve back into the deaths (sorry Depths) of my diary, the Olympics.  This is a personal thing, I don't mind if folk get excited by sport, I even have known folk who like sport so much they will have it on the television even when they are not in the room watching it.   But there is an odd thing linked to my coverage of these sporting events in my own rather offbeat way (although every word is true-ish), yes it appears I get far more pageviews on my blog.

So what makes the masses choose my blog to get the latest news of these sporting competitions? Many would say they learn absolutely nothing from my blog; OK they did learn the entire world cup was manipulated by Dave the Elvis Impersonator and won by German Androids. . . . . And the World Cup is probably not the Holy Grail. 

My main worry now is that in order to continue to see growth in the blog I will be forced to comment on more sport, but I am not a great fan of sport so I am more than a little perplexed by this strange state of affairs. Will I be forced to rely on the Commonwealth Games to perpetuate the excitement of the masses? And reveal that certain sports have been taken over by Aliens stealing the bodies of the unsuspecting sports people. . . it is a strong possibility.

Anyway the Ghost Writer spent his day in the office pondering the virtues of computers and using his own set of unique tools to perform tasks that other IT folk think of as plain stupid or blatant vandalism.  And as myself and the Ghost Writer are physically and mentally bonded together in a way that can only be described as diabolically indescribable, much like those Commonwealth Athletes that have been taken over by Aliens.  What this means is, when the Ghost Writer is knackered (so to speak. . . sorry small children your parents will explain) so am I. . . .

Therefore that’s your lot I’m off. . . I hate computers. 

     

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1 Bugatti, 24 goldfish and 1000 coat hangers

Yesterday as I told a handful of folk well maybe two. . . . as all the other folk were busy apparently they had hair to wash and paint to watch dry, or a an ant to race in an ant race through the maze of eternal confusion at 25 to 1 odds on; I was too tired to post because of the Bugatti and the 24 goldfish.  Today as you might expect those folk are keen to know exactly what I was up to that involved 24 goldfish and a Bugatti, well you would expect that only they are not really interested at all. This is no reason though not to tell you what I was doing and why I was very tired.

It started with a mad rush to help Miss Issy in the charity shop in the great Metropolis of Welshpool where I was allocated the cellar as it was felt I might be better down there away from customers. OK a couple of them did peer down and say OOOOOOo she’s right there is a monster in the cellar, I never saw it mind you?

Then I found the Bugatti, not the car but the clothing, I never knew they did clothing, but it seems they do and it (a jacket) fitted rather well so I bought it. So I am now the proud owner of a Bugatti WELL COOL. I also threw out about 1000 coat hangers . . . . . NO its true that place is overloaded with coat hangers.

After that Auntie Karen and Ian the Musical Hat Maker and Rock Star called in to say hello so we all stopped for tea and coffee and said rude things about certain politicians with a vague link to the local area and then all tried on clothing, Mr Ian finding a rather nice Dinner jacket for himself enhancing his rugged cool rock star image. . . .

Then after the shop closed I had to save 24 goldfish from the Ghost Writer who had received them as an early Father’s Day gift. He was discussing the options of fried or curried so it was felt he may have got the wrong idea about the gift and they needed to be rescued from his oven pronto. He had named them all either Pi, Cake or Supper so the fish are now safe but may need to talk to a therapist for anxiety.

Anyway after all that it was no surprise I was tired, I was better today as it was rather a nice day and so I was able to introduce the fish to the Steam Powered Duck and attempt Leech juggling  . . . . . . . . . Don’t try Leech juggling I don’t recommend it.

Ian the Musical Hat Maker

(A US N01 in its day)

Q is for a Quiet Quintessentially Quant English Garden

Taking the Ghost Writer to a Quiet Quintessentially Quant English garden was not entirely a good move. Not when he is doing his classic Quadrophenia  look. Still it has helped us though the letter Q like a hot quantum physicist through a particle accelerator 

Well thats it for tonight we really have been in a rather lovely garden today and I have run out of steam . . . . I can add a pic of the garden just after everyone ran screaming when the Ghost Writer smiled at them.

Oooooo there was one snag (well two if you include the Ghost Writer) the garden is in Wales, not England, just about 10 miles away.

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The Keep XP Undead Kampaign (not todays K post that was the last one)

It appears that after a long battle Microsoft Windows XP has almost lost its war with the elements as it slips into the shadows of cyberspace history, I say almost because at present it appears that of all people, the British Government has come to its rescue. . . . . I know it's a shock.  But there are good sound reasons for this, the underlying main one being, the IT folk of the British government are all getting on a bit (like the Ghost Writer) and Windows XP is integrated so deeply into some of the database systems it will be a serious pain in the ***** to untangle the mess. Old IT folk do not like hassle so if they can keep it alive for a while longer they will all get to retire and leave some young keen IT geek to sort it all out.

Anyway as I was chit chatting about in the vast voids of cyberspace I found some Linux folk sniggering and not being nice about Windows XP.  Linux users have historically always seen themselves as the rebellious underdog fighting the fight of the common man against the grinding wheels of the establishment and true it was the case back in the old days when most folk did not understand Linux and just wanted to look at a cute cat on the internet. 

But I feel the tide has turned the true eccentrics of cyberspace have finally said lets get retro and say enough is enough, leave us to bimble about with what we like and know and are happy with. We don’t want more and more new shiny operating systems and devices, most folk hardly scratch the surface of the old systems before it is deemed obsolete.

So today I have started the . . . . . WE LOVE XP campaign KEEP WINDOWS XP UNDEAD, it has the added advantage I get to draw Zombies, Banshees and Vampires and everyone likes a friendly Zombie. I will tell you all now it is a futile and ultimately doomed campaign, but has all the makings of a truly maverick and eccentric campaign that will keep all those young IT geeks annoyed for ages as they proclaim I am an IDIOT and XP is Rubbish. But we all know they are wrong as it is really easy to look at cute cats on the internet with and that is what counts (No the cat is not counting . . . it just looks like it on Youtube).

Share or be Square  

Computers, Hat Stands and Chaos Theory

The Ghost Writer has been in his grey office today looking at three new computers, he does not really like new computers because he is old and confused, slow and full of dents which means he has a natural affinity with old computers as they too are generally confused, slow and full of dents. He has also noticed that the company that he buys all the computers from have a habit of phoning him up and being all chirpy saying they will help. Now you might think that is very helpful and kind, but it is apparently rather irritating to log onto a site only to have a nice man phone you up fifteen seconds later, smiling (the Ghost Writer is assuming he is smiling) and offering to help.  It is like going into a large shop full of exciting and interesting stuff only to have someone sneak up behind you before you have even had a chance to look at the first thing rubbing his hands and saying OOOOOooooo yes sir this is a lovely Victorian Lemur hat stand and then saying things like Well yes sir the lemur is a BIT MOTH eaten but it’s eyes do follow you round the room….  As it happens a hat stand that has eyes that follow you round a room is not a strong selling point, nor is, I suspect is a group of Manky Stuffed Juggling Lemurs with a lingering look suggesting they may wish to hold your hat . . . .(or return to the jungle)

As many of you know the School Mascot is The Goat, which enjoys nothing more that being catapulted into the out of town supermarket for a bit of a run about in the fresh veggies before it escapes one way or another and returns to school well fed and perky after an exciting trip out.  However over the last couple of years many of you have been sceptical that a goat once catapulted in through the skylight of a huge supermarket could evade capture, escape and return back to the school without arousing suspicion. Well while listening to the wireless this morning I heard an article that stated Goats have been found to be far more intelligent that first thought. This I feel shows the world of Knowledge, Wisdom and Science that it needs to buck its ideas up pronto and read my blog more, the sooner the nice Mr Steven Spielberg makes the block buster movie the better for mankind is what I would say, well I would if it was not for the fact I am rather a modest genius who likes to keep his light under a bushel (I know it’s the English language, it is full of silly sayings).

I have also discovered that introducing a large lizard as a random element while working on the mathematics of Chaos Theories in the maths class causes chaos. The mathematics teacher did say that as a practical example of how The Chaos Theory works it was extremely good, but as an aid to a theoretic discussion of the mathematical principles involved in Chaos Theory it was rubbish, and a large group of screaming girls has fused his hearing aid.    

Bean Stew, Ghost Writers and the Beast in the Dark

I think we can break the day down into its component parts for the benefit of my diary starting with the morning when the Ghost Writer vanished off to work in his grey office. He was a little uncertain as to what sort of response he would have at the office as yesterday was the big meeting that was going to decide the future of the big office and all the folk it helps. As it turned out all the councillors could not make up their minds about anything so the plight of the Ghost Writer and his office was lost in the political wheeler dealing of local politics and bureaucratic winking of eyes in a knowing way. So it will now be at least next week until he knows if he will be gainfully employed as the IT guru of choice to the stars.

Moving on from breakfast we have just had our evening meal, OK by the time I finish writing this it was ages ago, but that is not the point. One thing you will notice is the gap between breakfast and the evening meal, but not a lot happened, so sorry about that. But we have had a bean stew, it was a nice bean stew, but it has been (been . . . bean HAH HA H HAH HA HA HHAH HAH  Hha ha ha ha ha) a while since I have had one and as folk will know beans and the human body can result in an exploding human. I am hoping I will not explode this would be terrible and rather messy and I suspect rather than the sympathy of the masses, they would snigger and say things like I bet he had a bean stew HAH AH H HH AH Hha ha ha ha.  At present I am still OK and have not exploded and I hope the situation remains like this. If for no other reason than it would not be the end to the block buster movie made by the very nice Steven Spielberg that I would have in mind when he finally gets round to making the movie of the diary of Rob Z Tobor.   It is all very well being famous but no one wants to be a has bean HAH AH HA HAH AH HAH AH HAH HA HAH AH HA HAH HA HA HAH AH ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Finally at the end of the day which has not happened yet but may do before I get this in cyberspace for you to read I have to mention that we have been putting cat food out for the beast in the dark. It’s the cat food the cats will not eat in the day, cats are fussy eaters and spend much time sniffing food and sticking their noses in the air in defiance until you have tried every flavour of cat food known to man, where upon they will finally eat the first one you put out.

Only today they have eaten all the food and there is no food for the beast in the dark, this is a worry as no one knows what the beast is or how large. So will it get in a rage and rip the patio doors off to eat bits of exploded humans lying about the house   . . . . . . All I can say is it a worry most people don’t think about often enough, and more folk need to put some food out for these beasts. You should try it put some cat or dog food out or a bit of ham or the like in a small bowl and I bet it will be gone in the morning, the food not the bowl, OK the bowl might vanish too it did here one night, but I found it in the end full of teeth dents and it was a metal dish. . . . . . . .

How come these little diary posts end up so long?

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Aliens, Computers and Loud Bangs and the Ghost Writer

Hello all sorry for the slight break in posts but I did say I was planning to slow up after reaching the 1000^th blog post (one of the outlets of my diary). There are reasons for this however involving both myself and the Ghost Writer.

In my case it all started on Wednesday night not long after I had written my diary entry. You see I had popped outside to put some cat food out on the front patio for the unknown beast that turns up, I really don’t know what it is but it well freaks the cats out and also seems to eat cat food, only it is a cunning beast and I am yet to catch a glimpse of the thing. Time will tell, I will eventually find out what this strange critter is with its pointy large claws and mad howls out in the woods. Anyway while I was out I looked up into the sky and thought what a clear sky it is tonight and it really was one of the clearest in a long time. We are lucky here because it is dark and we get to see the stars and on really clear nights the line across the sky formed by the Milky Way. So there I was looking up into the sky thinking WELL COOL when I noticed something flickering above the woods, then it suddenly moved, well that was a shock and at first I thought I was wrong but then it suddenly moved a bit more. It then moved up and down in quick jerky movements and occasionally from side to side, while it seemed to have flickering lights that may have been rotating. Luckily Mrs Ghost Writer was visiting and so I asked her to come and witness the UFO I had seen as no one was ever going to believe any of us lot. So she came out all sort of sceptical and looked at the flickering light which was still again, but luckily it then starting moving in quick short jerky movements again.. . . . . . . So just for once I have a real witness to a UFO; OK only the second one I have ever seen myself and as for the first one I don’t think I should tell you about that one because well you will not believe me.

As a result of this however I have been on a long alien hunt with Mr Jones who is very annoyed I got to see the UFO and he did not; and says that he's out most nights chasing aliens and the one night he stays in they turn up to see him. As he says No wonder folk don’t get decent pictures or evidence aliens are sneaky. Anyway we have been off in the woods and busy, but saw nothing except the Lemmings of Petrograd and the dodo’s who are still making catapults; you see what happens when the dog goes off to visit the Pope.

Now I did say reasons and the other is that the Ghost Writer, a key part of my diaries production as a real entity in the real world (well cyberspace) has been rather involved with other stuff. Firstly he was trying to do things for his work but at home, apparently it is what IT folk can do at times, but he had password problems, software problems and other problems that meant he was rather preoccupied. Then as a final straw the power supply on his old PC (he is like me he likes old PC’s)  blew up, he says it was as if it had been hit by a laser from an alien spacecraft, one big flash and it was a goner.  He is however rather resourceful and has got his old PC working again, although it now has the wrong power supply in it, and the result is the main power lead comes in the side of the PC so he needs to cut a hole in the side panel, and the whole thing is at present held together with string, bits of tape and wood screws. This is not what IT guru’s are meant to do they are meant to have techy looking high spec computers, not a scrap yard device that makes hissing noises.

OK finally . . . . . . . . . .

Today we have been helping Mrs E formally Miss I in her charity shop because we are jolly decent chaps and the like, and do our bit. . . . . . . . . sort of.

OK that’s it I’m off now although I am sorry, but I have used an old picture again because time has been full of things happening so drawing has taken a back seat so to speak  . . . . . . Another silly saying if you ask me as I am generally in the back seat and would therefore be able to draw. Only I was not this time, but I might have been, although I was not. . . . .  

Ghost Writers and Fat Cats

The Ghost Writer was in his office today and, as I explained about a week ago the organisation he works for may lose all its funding from the local county council. What the local council do is fund the core structure of the charities organisation; this allows it to get funding for other projects from other sources, to fund an assortment of other things. So as a result of one hundred thousand pounds per year from the county council, they have been able in the last ten years or more to increase this by two or three hundred thousand pounds plus.

 And because of the nature of the organisations work helping people with debt, benefits, housing and employment issues plus folk with disabilities and mental health issues they have worked out that they have achieved financial gains of over two million pounds to the people of the county in the last couple of years. Which of course mostly gets spent in the local economy, so indirectly the county councils money brings more money back into the county, which in many respects is almost a profit.

Although the organisation is a national organisation each part of it is dependent on the local council for core funding which is a weakness, because the local council when they are keen to save money will always cut funding to outside organisations first.. Folk were rather angry today because last nights council meeting saw the councillors all vote to cut 100% of the organisations funding again there are three meetings in all (well think of all those travelling expenses clocking up). I have been told that the councillors get rather good allowances and travelling expenses and a few other perks which appear to have avoided all the cuts (gosh).

 Anyway all is not well and many folk are very angry indeed . . . . I thought of the old well known saying of . . . . . . Putting the Cat among the Pigeons, but then thought it was not the right saying as it occurred to me that one cat among a load of pigeons would get confused and end up catching none. I know this to be true as we have cats and there are loads of pigeons here too  as they pinch all the bird food we put out for the birds (yes OK strictly speaking pigeons are birds, but greedy ones) anyway after some thought I have decided that the old saying (slightly modified has more relevance) should be . . . . .

Putting the Pigeon among the Cats . . . . . (that’s Fat Cats with large allowances and perks). . . . . You see the poor old pigeon has no chance and is a goner for sure, which is I suspect what will happen to the charity the Ghost Writer works for.  He will then be a down and out old has been, so no change there then . . . . . .HAH H HAH HA HAH HA HA HAH HA HA hahah ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haha.